


It Doesn't Have to Be Like This

by PrimeJiveAngel



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Brian's guilt is overhelming, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Freddie leaves a message, Implied/Referenced Character Death, John always knows what to do, M/M, Panic Attacks, Queen 1991, Roger rocks John's world, flashbacks to the 70's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27686033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimeJiveAngel/pseuds/PrimeJiveAngel
Summary: Freddie has just passed away and Roger, Brian and John are trying to help each other through the pain. But as Roger visits each of them, old hurts and pain arise and the drummer is left feeling lost and alone.It's been two weeks since Fred died and I feel like it was just today. The pain is emotional and physical at the same time. If I didn't know I was suffering from grief I'd think I was having a heart attack every hour of the day. Fuck, I just want this feeling to be done. It's worse than normal grief. I've gone through that. I guess I just thought the three of us, me and Brian and Deaky would be together and not nursing our separate feelings of despair by ourselves. God, I miss Fred so much I don't think I can go on like this much longer.
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Comments: 32
Kudos: 47





	1. Heart Beats

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of angsty to say the least but I'm hoping the flashbacks will have some fluff amongst the angst.

It's been two weeks since Fred died and I feel like it was just today. The pain is emotional ,and physical at the same time. If I didn't know I was suffering from grief I'd think I was having a heart attack every hour of the day. Fuck, I just want this feeling to be done. It's worse than normal grief. I've gone through that. I guess I just thought the three of us, me and Brian and Deaky would be together and not nursing our separate feelings of despair by ourselves. God, I miss Fred so much I don't think I can go on like this much longer.

I've bitten the bullet and if Brian won't answer my calls then I'm going over to his place now. I don't care if he slams the door in my face. Well, yeah I do care. I know Deaks has just totally freaked out and only managed to get through the funeral before he shut himself up with his family in Putney. But I don't have that luxury. In between relationships, of which there are many, I guess I've isolated myself. Fuck, I hate my life right now.

"Oh, it's you." Brian sighed and looked at his band mate on the front door step. His first reaction was to fold the blond into his arms, just as he would have done twenty years before when they were in love and the drummer was so fragile and sweet. But the years had passed and other relationships had come between them and after those first years of passion they had parted their ways. That didn't mean he didn't still love the man standing so forlornly in front of him. He hated himself for not being more sympathetic but he was feeling like shit, too.  
  


"Can I come in?" Roger may have been twenty years older but the years had been kind to him. He was still beautiful. Those blue eyes were still arresting. The fine blond hair had a little grey in it but was still an attractive mess. But the drummer looked like he hadn't slept in days and needed a hot meal or two. He'd lost weight he couldn't afford to lose. Brian found himself nodding and holding the door open.

"Chrissie has taken the kids to her sisters for a few days." The tall guitarist said as he closed the door. "I'm not much fun to live with, apparently." He sighed and took Roger's coat. It was the old duffel coat he had when he was a student and the older man wondered what had made him choose that to wear. The blond was usually a fashionable dresser.

"Bri?" It was Roger saying his name like that that made Brian feel the well of emotion surface and he held the other man close, kissing the top of his head just as he would have done years before. And Roger, just as he would have leaned heavily into him, pressing his face against his chest. 

They stood like that for a few minutes, neither speaking, just feeling the warmth from one another.

"I never thought I'd get warm, again." Roger had mumbled against the taller man's chest." He could have stayed like that all day. It was what he had craved.

"Come on. You need a drink and something to eat." Brian gave him a final kiss on the head, not allowing himself the luxury of kissing him on the lips. He had a feeling that was what the drummer wanted. But not now.

Roger followed Brian into the big kitchen and for a moment was taken back twenty years to when the band was starting out and they had spent hours eating and drinking and arguing in the small kitchen in their flat. It was that memory that sent him over the edge and Brian looked over in shock to see the now near middle aged drummer, sobbing in front of him. He pulled him over to a chair and crouching in front of the blond wiped his tears with a paper napkin and held both his hands till the other man stopped shaking.

Twenty years earlier-1971

"Fred, what's up with Rog?" Brian had gone into the kitchen to make a sandwich and had found Roger sitting at the table, tears running down his face. The singer had looked up at him and shook his head, putting his finger to his lips.

"He and Deaky had an argument. It's the end of the world." If anyone else had said that it would have been funny but older man knew Roger better than anyone.

"Oh." Brian sat down. "What happened?" Brian raised his eyebrows.

"Flirting." Freddie went back to his book. 

Brian was about to ask who did the flirting but that was a moot point. The drummer was hurt and even though everything told him to just go to the deli and get a sandwich he was drawn to his forlorn friend.

"Rog?" He'd crouched in front of him as he did twenty years later and wiped his tears and held his hands and told him everything would be alright. 

He remembered the feeling of the blonds arms around his waist as he'd stood up and pressed his head into his chest. It had been something that was repeated over the years. Sometimes, Roger was asking for forgiveness, especially when they had eventually become lovers and sometimes Brian had needed forgiveness. The eternal pattern.

"First a cup of hot coffee." Brian had waited till Roger had calmed down. "Then a shot of whiskey in it.'

"Freddie's remedy." Roger smiled and there was that little smirk at the corner of his mouth. Brian nodded at him.

"Yeah, he did say that." 

"We kept a bottle of brandy in the cupboard, remember?" The blond sighed and tried to pull himself together. 

Brian didn't know what made him say it be he felt like he had to. "You're still beautiful, love." He whispered. But he wasn't sure the drummer even heard him as their was no response. But it gave the taller man a chance to look at him and he wondered why they had been as stupid as they were when they were younger. He should have tried harder to keep the blond but Deaky had been there and the two younger men were like magnets to each other, But then they all got married and all had kids and only Roger was technically on his own. 

Brian set down two mugs of coffee and poured a generous amount of whiskey into both. He watched Roger put both hands around the mug and sip it. It gave him a chance to really look at him. The shirt the blond wore looked like he's just dragged it wrinkled from the closet. His tie wasn't well tied and even his face looked unwashed as if he'd just got out of bed.

"Rog, have you been sleeping?" Brian asked gently and the blond shook his head. 

"I was trying to call Deaky, but he won't come to the phone." The blue eyes looked sadly into his and the guitarist felt the old, familiar jealousy come up like bile in his throat. It had paralyzed him years ago. Not knowing how to deal with it. 

"He's hurting so much, I guess." Brian tried to take the tenseness out of his voice but he could tell the blond had sensed it and was looking pouty. It was Roger's way. It worked over the years. But Brian looked away. 

"I'll warm us up some stew. You look like you've lost weight, Rog." Brian got up and busied himself. He couldn't look at the blond any longer. Why was he here, anyway? He must know the pain he was causing.

"Is it okay if I smoke?" Roger was always polite. He'd given up smoking a few years earlier but had started again two weeks ago. Brian didn't have the heart to tell him to smoke outside but the blond went to the kitchen door and opened it, holding the lit smoke away from the room.

"You don't have to do that, Rog." Brian smiled at him but again he didn't think the blond even heard him.

Why can't I get Brian to understand? I'm sorry about all the stuff that happened years ago. I was stupid and I didn't know what I wanted. I had two guys in love with me and couldn't choose so I lost both. They're doing alright. Happily married with kids and I'm a divorced dad with a string of broken relationships. But I just need Brian now. Look at him, heating up stew. Making himself useful. I just want him to tell me he still loves me and drag me to bed like before. God, why am I always so fucking needy? Why should he do anything to make me better? I've hurt his feelings and I'm lucky he even talks to me. God, what a mess I've made of it. Fred would have known what to do. He'd of told me to stop being such a baby. I miss you Fred. God, how I miss you.

"Here, Rog." Brian put the two bowls down and Roger threw his smoke into the bushes and closed the door. He was shivering. It was early December and colder than normal. Then Brian did something only Brian would have done. He took off his own sweater and put it over the blonds head. "You're shivering, mate." He said simply and if it wasn't a physical hug it felt as close as one could get. Brian rolled the sleeves up a bit as if Roger was a child and had to stop himself from ruffling his hair.

1973

Brian looked at his clock. It was 2 am. Where the hell was Roger? He'd left him at the pub just before 10:30 and the drummer had said he's be back after last call. Brian had been so tired that he'd fallen asleep reading his book so was unaware Roger wasn't home. Should he be worried? He got up and went to the bedroom door and opened it. There was a faint light in the living room and adjusted his eyes to it. John was asleep on the couch, fully dressed, still wearing his jacket and Roger was sitting on the floor beside him. His jacket had been dropped on the floor and he had lain his head near John's on the couch.

Brian stared at them, trying to see if there were any signs of this just being what it appeared to be. Two mates who had too much to drink and fell asleep, probably chatting and giggling and that was all.

"Come one, blondie." Brian had crouched down and taken Roger's arms and pulled him up. He dropped the throw blanket over John and led the blond to bed.

"Sorry, Bri. So sorry." Roger had giggled and sat on the edge of the bed, swaying a little and reeking of whisky. He let the guitarist undress him and put his pyjama bottoms on and along sleeved tee shirt.

"No probs, Rog. We'll talk in the morning." Brian sighed and got the younger man under the covers. He opened the window a bit to diffuse the smell of alcohol and wrapped his arms around the sleeping drummer who was already snoring lightly.

But the next morning he was awoken by a freshly showered and teeth brushed drummer who acted as if nothing had happened the night before. And had anything happened? Not really. Just Roger being slightly unreliable and loving at the same time. A pattern that would get him in trouble more than once.

"Bri, could I stay here tonight? I mean if Chrissie is away and I really don't want to go back to my place." The blue eyes were pleading and Brian nodded. He could put Roger in the room with the gas fire to keep him warm. Then he had a feeling that may not be good idea. Roger could be on the edge and he didn't want to give him ammunition to harm himself. There was an electric blanket he could give him. It crossed his mind that Roger would want to sleep with him but that was out of the question. All the same, he felt that familiar pull towards the blond. Despite himself he wondered if the feel of his naked body next to his would be the same.


	2. We Had a Chance and Blew It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger is visiting Brian at his town house and the guitarist has mixed feelings because he still feels the same pull towards the blond.

Brian had gone to his room and shut the door. He wasn't even close to tired and sat in bed reading his book for nearly an hour before he got up again. He walked towards the guest room and seeing a faint light coming through the partially opened door he looked in. Roger had had a shower and was wearing the pyjamas Brian had put out for him. He was fast asleep, his hands curled under his chin, the still dark eyelashes against his skin. The guitarist stood there for several minutes, just watching him sleep. He was amazed that at 42 the drummer still had that innocent, angelic look when he slept.

1975

"Rog, come on love. We have to get going." Brian had stood in the doorway of the hotel bathroom watching the still sleeping drummer. His hands curled under his chin and a small smile on his lips. No one would suspect the blond had been a demon in bed the night before. Brian smiled, remembering and had to stop himself from running the risk if them missing their flight, by getting back in bed with him. But he had to do something to rouse but not arouse the blond.

"Rog?" Brian sat on the edge of the bed but just then the phone rang and it was Jim telling him that the flight was delayed by two hours so there was no rush and could he please tell Roger because the drummer wasn't answering the phone in his room. He said, yes, of course, if he ran into him and put the phone down.

"Who was that?" Rogers sleepy, raspy voice made him look down. The guitarist carded his fingers through the tangled mess of blond hair splayed on the pillow and leaned over to kiss the slightly apart lips.

"Jim. We can stay in bed a couple more hours." Brian ran his thumb lightly over the blonds jaw. 

"He said that?" Roger smirked and stretched his bare arms above his head and arched his back. That was all the encouragement that Brian needed. He undressed while the blond got out of bed and walked naked to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Brian lay with his arm behind his head, heard the toilet flush, water running and then the beautiful body that was his lover walk slowly towards him, knowing the guitarist was watching him.  
  


"Waiting for me?" The blond pulled back the covers over Brian and climbed back into the bed, bracketing the darker haired mans thighs with his knees and lowering his head as he pressed his lips to his lovers and lowered his hips down slowly.

Brian held the blonds head down gently with his hand and with the other wrapped his fingers around Roger's erection causing the blond to moan into his mouth and wrap his fingers around Brian's cock more firmly. 

"Are you okay from last night?" Brian asked, pushing a couple of pillows behind his back, his voice already sounding rough in his ears. Roger nodded and lifting his chest he sat back on the guitarists thighs a small smirk on his lips. Brian reached for the blonds hands and held them tightly on either side of his chest, steadying the younger man as he lowered himself onto him. Brian held his breath feeling the tight warmness around him and looked into Roger's hooded eyes. The blonds head tilted back at that moment and Brian lifted a hand to stroke the pale neck and shoulders.

"You are so beautiful." Brian whispered running his thumb along the blonds jaw as the younger man rode him lazily. It was such and exquisite feeling for them both, the only sound their breathing and their bodies meeting erotically.

Roger's lips were apart, showing even white teeth as he lowered himself to Brian chest, never losing contacts with the other mans cock. The blonds movements sped up as he pressed his face into Brian's neck and his hands were held tightly on either side of the pillow and Brian reached between their bodies as he felt himself nearing his release. "Come on, Rog. Let it go for me, baby. Come on." He pulled on the blonds cock and felt himself stutter in his movements and felt the warm gush over his fingers as he came copiously inside the blond. Both men were drenched in sweat and Brian licked the salty moisture from the blonds neck before nuzzling the warm neck. The air smelled of sex and sweat and Brian liked to think, romantically, love.

Roger, after sex was a wreck. He could hardly speak and the longer this lasted the more satisfied and euphoric he was. Brian knew that he could have said or done anything to him and the blond wouldn't have noticed or cared. His blond hair, lay in damp tendrils around his face, the lone dark eyes lashes seemed to cast shadows on his cheeks. Brian thought, not for the first time, how beautiful he was and then remembered the evening before during the concert how he had lost it with the roadies and stomped off in bad mood. No one, seeing him now, would think a selfish thing would go through his head. 

1991

Brian went back to his room almost reluctantly. He would have to make sure Roger went home the next day. He didn't trust himself alone with him.

At first, Brian had thought Roger had gone. The bed had been neatly made and the towels in the hamper. There wasn't a trace of his band mate in the room or bathroom. He felt very disappointed despite his wanting to make sure the drummer went home. But getting downstairs, he saw from the kitchen window a plume of smoke and three perfect smoke rings. He chuckled to himself and opened the kitchen door that led to wide wooden steps.

Roger was wearing what he had arrived in, the duffel coat unbuttoned. It was like a frozen moment in time when he turned his head and lifted it slightly, the same wide blue eyes that Brian had fallen in love with all those years ago. They had lost none of their power or innocence and the guitarist, despite himself, smiled.

"Good morning. Did you sleep okay?" Brian sat next to the blond on the stairs and had to stop himself from wrapping an arm around him and ruffling his hair. How many photos had been taken over the years of him doing just that?

"Yeah, thanks." Roger gave a quick smile and furrowed his brow as if he was about to say something but didn't. 

"Hungry?" Brian started to get up. 

"Not very. I put the coffee on." Rogers voice was expressionless and Brian had the feeling he had missed something. There was so much unsaid between them over the years. They should have talked more and partied less. Then they had married and had kids and the chances to talk had come and gone. Brian use to blame Roger but he knew he was partially if not wholly to blame. 

"Could you just sit with me for a bit?" Roger didn't look at him. "I wasn't there in time. Fred. I was only a half minute away and he was gone before I got there." Roger turned and looked at Brian with sad eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Rog." Brian did put his arm around him and the blond leaned his head on the taller man's shoulder. Brian held his hand on the fair head and kissed the top of it. 

Roger had taken off his coat but was of course still wearing the un ironed shirt and tie. Brian couldn't help but notice as the blond turned around that the tight jeans still molded a perfect arse. 

"You better eat something." Brian said over his shoulder as Roger poured them both coffees. He could sense rather than see the drummer nod. It had never been a problem when they were in their twenties to get the drummer to eat. He was always starving. Said drumming burned the calories and Brian had agreed the blond did work harder than the others except for Freddie.

"Sorry for turning up like that yesterday." Roger started to light a cigarette but stopped and put it back in the pack.

"That's okay, Rog. Go ahead." Brian smiled at him as he put a plate of toast on the table. But Roger shook his head and reached for a piece of buttery toast. 

"Remember those buffet breakfasts when we were on tour?" The drummer smiled. "Fuck, they were good." He chuckled and for a few seconds the funny side of Roger showed itself. "Not that I ever ate much." He smirked.

"I remember those pile high plates of yours and you went back for seconds." Brian sipped his coffee. "Then all the groupie exploits from the night before. We thought you were exaggerating at first." Brian chuckled. 

"Not a bit. As you well know." Roger blushed and looked down. He hadn't meant to bring that up. Their relationship. But Brian pretended he hadn't heard and got up to get the jam.

"Have you talked to Deaky since the funeral?" Roger asked.

Brian shook his head. No but I haven't tried to. He's got a big family and always seems so busy, besides being really upset about it all.

"Yeah. I tried but he doesn't call back." The blond sighed and looked quickly at Brian who had lowered his eye lids so the blond couldn't see if he was annoyed about talking about the bassist. It had always been a sore point. For various reasons.

Roger looked at him as Brian turned his head away to reach for the milk. Brian was unbelievably handsome, still. The luxurious brown curly hair was perfect for his face. Roger had the fleetest memory of grabbing handfuls of that hair when they made love. He loved to tug it when he was coming. He made a scoffing noise at himself and Brian turned quickly.

"What?" He raised his eyebrows.

"I was just thinking about the 70's." Roger put his head to one side and smiled the old Roger smile that always, even now, made Brian's heart skip a beat.

"Yeah?' Brian shook his head, sending the brown curls dancing around his face. Roger had to stop from reaching out. It was as if time had gone back over ten years. 

"I better go." Roger stood up abruptly and Brian followed him out to the hallway.

"You don't have to go, love." He said it exactly as he would have done years before and Roger stopped. He was on the verge of tears and didn't want to embarrass himself. 

"I didn't mean what I said back then. I was just confused and..." The blond pulled his coat on again and took a deep breath. 

"What?" Brian sat on the staircase and stared at him. "What do you mean, Rog?" He knew exactly what the blond meant. But he wanted to keep him longer. Not to let him go out that door. He was in no state to be left on his own. 

The blond crossed his arms and looked pouty. Brian had to stop himself from smiling. How many times had he seen that look. In a moment the drummer would say he was being 'obtuse'. 

"When I said it was just sex. No big deal if you weren't serious. I was just feeling sorry for myself. "I'd hurt your feelings." The words were out. That had been 1978. What. 13 years ago?

Brian hadn't meant to frighten the blond but he quickly moved towards him, to hold him close and tell him it wasn't that but Roger had obviously thought something else and took a step back in fear. It stopped Brian in his tracks. He would never have hurt the love of his life. His Roger. It wounded him that the blond was afraid of him, even for an instant. 

"I gotta go. It was a mistake. I shouldn't have come" The door was opening and Brian felt powerless to stop him. He went to the windows of the drawing room and looked out. It broke his heart. Roger looked like a teenager, with the hood of his duffel coat over his head so no one would recognize him. He'd obviously walked all the way from Kensington. It wasn't that far but the blond had seemed so frail.

Brian went to the phone and dialed John's number. Veronica answered the phone. He didn't even ask to speak to the bassist.

"Please tell him Roger was just here and if he doesn't want to go to another funeral he needs to talk to me." He made sure Veronica got the message down correctly and then asked her how she and the children were. He knew how John was. He'd seen him at Freddie's funeral.

Twenty minutes later there was a knock on Brian's door and he opened it to see John on the doorstep. 

"What the hell has happened?" 


	3. Grilled Cheese and You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John arrives at Brian's and tried to find out what transpired between the guitarist and drummer.  
> Finally, John finds his friend and takes him home and tries to help him heal from the pain of losing Freddie and for what had happened years before.

John, looked like John. Neat and buttoned down. He had a wife that made sure he left the house neat and tidy. But Brian could tell by the dark circles under the bassists eyes that he hadn't slept well. None of them had.

"Where's Rog?" He skipped the greeting and nearly pushed past Brian into the hallway.

"He left. He stayed the night. In the guest room." He added and John gave him an odd look.

"And?" The bassist wanted to know why Brian had called him with that message. "Was he alright? Of course he wasn't." John sat down on the stair that Brian had sat on earlier.

Brian wasn't prepared to answer that question so quickly, especially with John staring at him. "He was upset about Fred. He'd only missed seeing him by a few minutes. He wasn't making much sense about..."

John interrupted him. "Did you say something to him?" John stood up.

Brian didn't think John looked any better than Roger had. He obviously hadn't been sleeping, either. But the look of concern on his face was for Roger and not about Freddie's resent death. For a moment Brian felt that old pang of jealousy that he thought he'd gotten over years ago.

"Come on, Deaky. I'll get you a hot drink and we can talk." Brian didn't wait for the bassist to answer. He went straight to the kitchen and got the makings for two hot toddies liberally laced with rum. John had followed him and sat in the chair Roger had and looked around the bright, clean room,

"So different, huh?" He knew Brian understood him. Brian turned and placed the handled glass down in front of the bassist.

"Roger said that this morning." Brian chuckled and John stared at him.

"He stayed overnight?" He ignored the hot drink. "How was he?"

Brian was about to suggest that John should have answered Roger's calls but didn't. It wouldn't help. "Yeah, he just showed up. He was in a bad way." Brian looked at the younger man. John had just turned forty. He had more grey in his short brown hair. Gone were those flowing locks of years before. He was a father of five or was it six now? From all he's observed and heard the bassist was a loving father and husband. But he still loved Roger. That much was clear. Not only were they both grieving the loss of their dear friend Freddie, they were concerned about Roger. Hadn't they always been?

"What happened? Why did you leave that message about going to another funeral?" John crossed his arms and stared at the steaming mug. "Where is he, anyway?" He looked up frowning.

"I guess he went home, Deaks. I tried to stop him. He just left." Brian shrugged. He knew what was coming.

"What did you say to him? Why was he upset?" John sat up straighter and picked up the drink. It had cooled down enough that he could drink half of it. A little colour had come back into his face. "I shouldn't be here. I have to find him." He started to get up.

"Wait, Deaky. Please." Brian said firmly and the brunette frowned at him but sat back down.

"He came over because he was sad and lonely and needed us. We both have families and he doesn't." Brian felt his voice catch. The full sadness that the blond had been feeling had hit him.

"But why did he leave? What did you say to him?" John's voice was accusing.

"I didn't say anything. He was apologizing for what happened years ago. The misunderstanding. I tried to hug him but he thought I was going to hit him. Then he left."

John nodded. "But there must have been something else? Think, Brian." John's face was tense. He knew there was more Brian couldn't tell him that he was sure the blond wanted to sleep with him. 

"He slept in your guest room?" John asked quietly and the older man nodded. John turned his head away and for an instant he looked like the Deaky of years ago. The soft, kind eyes. Roger's protector. 

"Have you tried to call him at his flat?" John raised his eyebrows and Brian shook his head. 

"I called you as soon as he left. He wouldn't have time to walk home before you got here." Brian felt helpless. He was the older of the two of them. He should be able make all this better. Do the right thing. But he knew he'd fucked it up and that John knew it, too.

"So you called me to fix this?" John shook his head. "It's Roger, for God's sake. You of all people." John sighed and finished his drink. "I'll drive over to his place. I know the route he walks home." he got up. "I'm sorry. I don't want to make you feel bad but all this stuff from over a decade ago could have been sorted then. Yes?" 

Brian just nodded and John put his head to one side and gave him a small smile. But that was all he could manage right now. 

"Will you call me when you see him? Please?" Brian walked to the front door with him.

"Yes, of course. I told Veronica I may need to stay with him for a couple of days. I think she's tired of me moping around, anyway." John gave the taller man a quick hug and left.

"Of course, you'll spend a couple of days with him. And a couple of nights." Brian scoffed and hated himself for what he thought and for the jealousy he harbored for so many years.

John sat in his car for a few minutes before turning on the engine. His thoughts had gone back to the 70's when they were all in their twenties. He remembered driving around the West End looking for Roger and finally finding him. He was a little drunk and a little sad and they had ended up in the bands van, making out and going to bed together. He shook his head and smiled. Roger. Life was never boring with the drummer.

"Rog?" John had pulled the car up and called out the window. He's recognized the old blue duffel coat with the hood up. Roger stopped and looked up, pushing the hood off his head and focusing his eyes on who was calling him. A brief smile passed his lips and John unlocked the passenger door for him. 

"Hi, Deaky." The drummer got in and shut the door. He didn't ask how it came about that John was apparently looking for him. He looked at the bassist the same way he had nearly thirteen years ago. 

"Hi, Rog." John chuckled and pulled into traffic. 'Your place?" He looked at the drummer again.

"Yeah, I guess." Roger nodded and looked out the window. He guessed Brian had called the bassist. 

"I'm sorry I didn't call you back, love." Deaky said softly. "Love." He hadn't called him that in so many years. Roger looked at him intently and nodded.

"I know." He put his hand out towards John's and the bassist took it in his. The fingers were icy cold. He looked at the pink flushed face. The blond looked like he was getting a cold. 

It was always so easy between them. The affection had never waivered even after they had all got into other relationships and had children. If they had ever managed to be alone together they hadn't hesitated in at least hugging one another. John wondered what would have happened if they hadn't done the conventional thing. Would Roger still be this distraught? 

"I can stay a couple of days." John pulled into the parking garage of Roger's building and parked the car and turned off the engine. He took the blond's hand in his and held it for a couple of minutes till the windows steamed up with their breath.

"You're allowed?" Roger looked at him but he wasn't being sarcastic. He was just asking if he could count on him staying. Veronica wouldn't call him and ask him to come back home.

"Yes." John held the blond hand to his lips for a brief second. "Come on, babe. Let's get you warmed up.' John got out of the car and waited for Roger.

"I can't turn down that offer." The drummer smirked and John chuckled. The first glimpse of the old Roger. 

""Very cheeky." John frowned at him and they took the elevator from the garage to Roger's flat that took up a whole floor of the building. 

"It's freezing in here." John took Roger's coat and hung it up as if he was one of his children. "Better turn the gas fires on, Rog." He said gently and watched the blond do as he was told.

John hadn't let on but he was very worried about the drummer. His fragility was usually hidden or at least he would try to hide it but they had been intimate for so long all those years before that the bassist could see the signs. The drummer wasn't dressed with his usual care and he wondered why he even had a shirt like the one he was wearing. The tight jeans were a bit loser and he'd obviously lost weight. John went to the fridge and looked in the freezer. There was enough to make him a decent if boring meal. But as he turned he saw Roger was right behind him. He had that lost look in his eyes making the blue seem bluer. 

"Oh, love." John held him close and placed his hand over the blond head that lay on his shoulder. "I've missed you, too." He whispered and knew it was true. They had stood in the old kitchen of their Kensington flat and done just this. Sometimes for a reason and sometimes for none. Freddie would have been happy to see them like this.

"I miss him, Deaky. I miss Fred so much." The blond sobbed on his shoulder and John whispered to him that it would be alright. They would get through it together. Freddie's nearly last words to the bassist were to ask him to look after Roger.

"He's our lost angel." He'd said and neither man thought calling a forty two year old man a lost angel was odd. It was true. Fred had adored the blond for his crankiness, and talent and personality and just the sheer beauty of him. 

John looked at him now and felt his heart swell with love for him. He couldn't not love him. He'd tried once and decided it was impossible and he would just have to live with his feelings no matter how much it hurt.

"Rog, go get a shower and warm up and I'll make us some lunch, okay." John held the blond by the shoulders and got a quick nod and a tearful smile and a sniff. Thirteen years ago they would have had the shower together and gone to bed and made love and forgotten about eating. The same thought must have crossed Roger's mind as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the brunettes for a moment before pulling away and leaving his friend to make lunch.

John had made them both his signature grilled cheese sandwiches and found enough milk that was fresh enough to make hot chocolates. It was the perfect comforting meal to warm them up and get back to feeling normal.

Roger had changed into sweats and a long sleeved tee shirt and grinned when he saw what John had prepared for them both. "Thanks, Deaky." He leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. 

The afternoon news program was just coming on and near the end they mentioned Freddie Mercury. John immediately turned off the set. It was the last thing the blond needed to watch. John put his arm around the narrow shoulders and pulled him closer.

"You're really staying, Deaky?" Roger had looked at him again. He needed reassurance that he wouldn't be alone tonight.

"Absolutely, babe." Again with another endearment he hadn't used in years but the blond accepted it and nodded. 

They ordered a pizza for dinner and Roger opened a bottle of wine and they had a picnic on the floor, cross legged and feeling a bit younger. The grey in each ones hair seemed to have gone and there were no tiredness lines around their eyes,. not that Roger had lines. He hadn't had to walk the hallway with a crying baby for years. He was still the young looking one.

Roger couldn't believe that he would ever feel better after the last few days. He'd tried to apologize to Brian and had gotten in wrong. He hated hurting Brian bit he could never get the right words together to tell him. It was easier with Deaky. Deaky didn't over think things. He just knew the right thing to do. 

The subject of where John would sleep hadn't even come up. After he had had his shower and changed into a pair of Roger's pyjama bottoms and a tee shirt, he settled himself in bed next to the blond. He'd managed to get him to take half a sleeping pill and stroked the other mans hair back till he fell asleep on his shoulder. Tomorrow they would have to make a plan because Roger couldn't go on like this. The plan had to involve Brian to make it work, though.

"Oh, love.' John kissed the top of the blonds head and closed his eyes.   
  



	4. Remember Paris?

John woke up feeling as if his arms were achingly empty. He had slept all night with Roger thinking they were back in the 70's and were in a hotel room in a strange city. He'd missed those days more than he realized. He'd missed Roger in his bed.

"Rog?" John stood in the doorway to the large living room. The gas fire was on so it felt warmer than it normally would have. The drummer was sitting in front of the tv watching what looked like videos of the band when they were on tour. There were tears running down his cheeks and John crouched down beside him on the thick carpet and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Why are you doing this to yourself, love?" He sat behind Roger and spread his legs on either side of him, using the armchair as a backrest. The blond leaned back against his chest and let John cross his arms over his chest from behind.

"I miss him, Deaky." The four simple words. His best friend had died and left him and his two other friends had been so deep in their own grief that they hadn't given him a thought. He didn't have a boyfriend or girlfriend or kids to take up the space. He only had them and they abandoned him so much that he had taken the courage to seek them out.

"Put that one on, Rog." John pointed to a tape. From recollection he hoped it was the one he was thinking of. Thankfully, it was. The music started and Roger smiled.

"Did you really write that for me, Deaky?" He whispered and turned his head slowly to look into the bassists eyes.

"Yes, you know I did." John felt himself blush just as he had years ago when he had told Roger the song You're My Best Friend was about him. "I couldn't say anything more than that." He scoffed at himself.

"Freddie did a good job singing it. Would have been nice if you had, though." Roger smirked and snuggled more into John's arms. "This is nice." He said softly. "I just wanted this." He said softly.

"I know, babe. I'm sorry we let you down." John kissed the top of the blond head. Roger was every bit as beautiful now as he was 15 years ago. Suddenly, John felt immeasurably sad. He should never had let Roger go. It was in retaliation for a something that had never really happened. Brian was just as guilty but the guitarist had to deal with that. Their selfishness had made Roger suffer for years.

John had been unable to see Freddie when he was dying. It had been too much for him. But Roger had gone often. Of course he had. Roger was an angel. He was a loyal friend. John had spoken on the phone to the singer who understood. John hadn't told anyone about their long talks. Freddie had asked him to watch over Roger. To keep him close. That he was their lost angel. John felt he'd let both Freddie and Roger down and had to make it up. Had to.

"Come back to bed, baby." John kissed the blonds neck.

"I remember you saying that." Roger leaned his head back. "Paris. 1978?" He smiled. "That super big bed in that super big hotel room. "Fuck, I was so in love with you, Deaky. Really, really in love."

"So was I, Rog." John back up and stood up and held his hand out to the blond. "Bed. Now." He smiled as Roger turned off the tv and the gas fire and let John take his hand.

"Did you ever think we'd be doing this in our forties?" Roger stretched his arms above his head. John leaned on his elbow watching him as he drew small circles on the blonds smooth, bare chest.

"No, and I never would have thought you would be so beautiful." John dipped his head and left small kisses along the blonds chest. In his heart they were still in their twenties. He felt every bit the same now as he had then. He looked into the deep blue eyes and tried to imagine what Roger was feeling.

"There was never any bloke after you, Deaky." Roger said suddenly. "Never." The blond reached up and ran his fingers through John's short hair.

"I guess I never knew." John confessed. "I never heard of anyone." He lowered his head onto the blonds chest. He felt Roger's arm around him, then the other one and he let the tears he had kept inside flowed freely.

1976

"Come one, Deaky. Look at the size of the bed and the view!" They had a room on the top floor of the tallest hotel in Paris and the view was breathtaking. But even more breathtaking to John was Roger. He was still wearing his outfit from the concert. Tight, of course, black leather pants and a short, white frilly top. With the messy blond hair and slim hips he was beyond hot in John's eyes. He was always dressed the same. But for Roger, the designers went all out.

John obeyed and walked over to the floor to ceiling window. They could see the Eifel Tower clearly and the rest of Paris below them. The lights from the traffic but not the noise. John wrapped his arms around the blond from behind and kissed his neck. No one could see them from here. It was perfect. They were always dodging groupies and paparazzi just to be alone together. They didn't think anyone suspected. Neither Brian or Freddie. That's what made it the more special. Stolen moments were the best.

John chuckled as Roger really did seem enthralled with the view. The bassist popped the button on the blonds leather pants and slid the zip down. Roger didn't seem to notice till he felt John's fingers wrap around him. 

"Fuck, that feels good." He sighed and leaned back into the brunettes chest. 

"Mmm. That's the idea, love." John kissed behind the blond ear. He knew all the spots that turned Roger on. All of them. "Come to bed, baby." John whispered. "The bed is as big as Paris." He chuckled.

Making love with Roger was of course, different than any woman. It seemed more romantic, more erotic and loving than anything the bassist had experienced with anyone before. John held the blonds hands in his as he leaned on his forearms. Roger's slim legs wrapped tightly around him as they got into a satisfying rhythm. 

Roger was wrecked. His eyes were half closed and his head tilted back, inviting John to kiss his neck. The parted lips showed even white teeth and his forehead was wet with perspiration. The only noise was of their love making and moans as they both neared their release. John made sure they came together. He could tell as he wrapped his fingers around Roger's cock that he was close and he adjusted his movements. Giving pleasure to Roger was always his goal. Roger being happy made him happy.

"Oh, fuck. Yeah." Roger moaned into his neck. This was the cue for John to cover his mouth with his. It was a dirty kiss with their tongues sliding against eachother. Roger's legs tightened around him, his heels digging into his back, making him go faster. 

John collapsed on the blonds chest. He was exhausted and happy and so in love that he could have died at that moment. The blond was breathing raggedly with an almost saintly look on his face which was the opposite of what he had been doing.

"I love you." John couldn't even lift his head. Roger's fingers were entwined in his hair. John breathed in the scent of the blond and sweat and sex. It was a heady combination. He couldn't imagine feeling like this about anyone. Ever.

The grey Paris dawn had come into the bedroom and John closed his eyes again. Roger was still in his arms. The blond head on his chest. John sighed and slightly tightened his arms and fell asleep again. He thought he must be dreaming when he heard a movement in the room and then a door close. He must be dreaming.

Roger lifted his head from John's chest. He was still sleepy and warm and very horny. He reached down between them and felt John's hardness. "Johnny?" He whispered. 

"Mmm?" John opened his eyes, aware of the blonds fingers around him. "You are insatiable, Taylor." He whispered.

Later the band met for breakfast in the hotel dining room. Brian spent the entire meal glaring at Roger and John realized that he hadn't imagined someone coming into their room. Brian's room connected with theirs. The bassist pushed what was going on from his mind. He had to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments?


	5. Do We Have Time?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian looks back on his affair with Roger and what went wrong.

1991

Brian felt as if he was living in a between world of today and the 70's. His mind went back and forth to better times when they were younger and thought that they didn't have to do anything other than look good to get love and affection. He had been pacing all day and night thinking about what was going on at Roger's flat. John was staying over for two nights and Brian's imagination was just as heated as it was in 1977 when he knew for sure that John and Roger were having sex and the blond had moved on.

"Why didn't I just tell him I was sorry? That I was wrong?" He said aloud to himself as he stood in front of the large living room window looking out onto the busy street. He'd lost the love of his life because of pride. Of not admitting he was wrong and had made a mistake,

"Fuck you, John." The guitarist leaned his forehead agains the glass and sighed. He was glad Chrissie and the kids had left him alone for a week. He needed the grieving period for Freddie and also for Roger. He had never really let himself feel the hurt and cry it out all those years ago and now it seemed overwhelming.

Were John and Roger sleeping in the same bed? Of course they would be. John had always been there for Roger except these last couple of weeks but he would be making up for it. They were probably having sex. Brian wondered what John's wife would think if she knew. All their relationships with one another had been kept secret over the years. It wouldn't do to start confessing to anything now and Roger was single. He could do what he wanted and always had.

1975

"Bri, why are you mad at me, again?" Roger stood, hands on hips his mouth in a pout but an annoyed look in his beautiful blue eyes. The eyes that Brian was trying hard not to look at because he would fall apart and ask for forgiveness if he let himself. 

"Because" Brian paused and stopped packing his suitcase. "You were flirting with that girl at the party just before we were...no, scratch that. You had your tongues down each others throats five minutes before we were suppose to come back to the room. It looked like you had plans other than being with me." Brian knew he sounded petulant and ridiculous because everyone knew Roger liked girls and that it didn't mean anything special.

"That's it?" Roger shook his head and his blond hair flew around his face. He tucked a lock behind one ear and exposed his smooth jawline and a perfect ear.

"That's it." Brian looked away. Roger's mouth turned into a smirk and he rolled his eyes.

"Come here, silly." He reached out to grab the guitarists arm and the taller man was going to pull away but didn't. He couldn't stay angry with Roger for very long. There was such an innocence about him that was so sexy it was indescribable. 

Brian allowed himself to be pulled into the shorter man's arms and rubbed his face into the top of the blonds head. He turned his wrist to check the time. They had 30 minutes before they had to leave and they were both packed. 

"We have time." Brian smiled into the soft blond hair and felt Roger chuckle against him. 

"Just had a shower, too." Roger mumbled and Brian wasn't sure if that meant he was ready or complaining he'd have to shower after. Probably both.

"If you don't want to?" Brian teased him and slid a hand slowly down the back of the blond's tight jeans and underpants to squeeze a soft buttock. 

Roger moaned and pressed his groin against the guitarist and let himself fall backwards onto the bed, taking the taller man with him.

"These jeans are so fucking hard to get off." Brian sighed as he straddled the blonds thighs and popped the button on his jeans and pulling down the zip.

"But well worth the trouble." The blond smiled lazily as his erect penis was exposed and Brian slid down the bed so he could take the whole length into his mouth. 

"Fuck, Bri." Roger arched is back and spread his legs. "Feels so good when you do that." The blue eyes locked into the hazel ones and the sounds coming from both of them were beyond lewd. Brian loved this part of foreplay. He'd look over at the blond when they were on stage performing and think about this moment and smile to himself as he watched Roger's head tilt backwards as he drummed and the same look as now would be on his face. 

"Better stop now, though. Not much time." Roger wanted his fuck and Brian wasn't going to deny him. He went over to his flight bag and pulled out the lube. 

"So impatient." The guitarist muttered under his breath as Roger kicked off his jeans and put his arms out.

"Need my Bri, now." He pouted his lips for a kiss. 

Within a few minutes Roger was grasping the headboard with one hand and his arm wrapped around Brian's neck as their perspiring bodies made smacking noises against each other. Roger was trying hard to keep his moans low but Brian inside him after he'd opened him up was fantastic and he couldn't help it. 

"Come on, love." Brian whispered as his hand wrapped around Roger's erection and they slid into euphoria together, saying one another's names over and over.

They had just enough time to get out of their room after a very quick shower and Freddie had been waiting impatiently in the lobby with John who looked as if he'd just woken up himself. Brian was sure the two would know just by their expressions about what they'd been doing but of course didn't. Would never have even guessed. Or cared?

But the next day the same thing happened after a party. Roger was always the centre of attention with girls and though it meant nothing to him it did to Brian and after one too many drinks he had yanked the drummer into a corner of the hallway, out of sight of anyone and nearly hit him. The look of terror on the drummer's face had been enough to stop him and he gasped as the drummer's face went white. Brian was hurt that the blond would think he was going to hurt him but that was precisely what he had been going to do. he'd looked at his own clenched fist in horror and dropped it to his side. 

Roger had stood rooted to the spot. Brian had brought back memories of Roger's father beating him up when he was a teenager and the blond felt physically sick and terrified even though he knew Brian wouldn't have gone through with it. He slid down the wall and landed on his bottom and swallowed hard as he felt the bile rise in his throat. 

Brian was unsure what to do. he couldn't leave the blond like that. "I'm sorry Rog. I wouldn't have hurt you. Really." But the words didn't sound sincere. Would he have hurt him? He was angry but now that seemed ridiculous. The drummer hadn't done anything wrong. He was just being Roger Taylor, after all..

"Fred?" John took the singer aside when he found him. "I just saw Roger sitting on the floor in the hall. He doesn't look good."

"Too much to drink, darling." The singer was about to dismiss it but caught John's expression. 'Show me." He followed the bassist through the crowd. They passed Brian asking a waiter for a glass of water but by the time they had reached Roger he looked better and was lighting a cigarette.

"How are you, darling?" Fred smiled and grabbed his arm. Haven't seen you all evening. Me and Deaky here were worried." 

"S'okay." The blond gave a shaky smile and took the glass of water that Brian who had just appeared, gave him. "Thanks." 

"Let's all go sit down somewhere quiet." Fred had know Roger a long time and knew something was wrong but couldn't put his finger on it. Thank god for John being alert.

The four sat down but Roger chose to sit between Freddie and John which surprised the bassist as he usually sat with Brian. But even that configuration didn't last long because Roger exuded himself and moved as quickly as he could through the throng to the bathroom that he pray wasn't occupied and he threw up.

"Rog? It's Deaky. You okay, mate?" 

"Yeah." Roger sat against the inside of the stall. "Shouldn't have a drink on an empty stomach." He lied but he knew John wasn't convinced but was polite not to say it was bull. 

"Okay. Want me to wait for you?" John's voice was soft and close to the door. Roger smiled, seeing John's feet only a few inches away.

"Yeah, just give me a sec." Roger coughed and nothing happened. He flushed the toilet again and stood up. He felt a bit shaky and clammy and unlocked the stall door. 

John had already gone over to the sink and ran some paper towels under the warm water. "Here." He handed them to the blond and crossed his arms as Roger wiped his face and swallowed some cold water.

Thanks, Deaky." Roger looked up. "I feel like a prat." 

"No more than usual." John was known for his sarcasm but it made the drummer smile.

Fred and Brian were sitting next to one another chatting when they returned to the big room. People were leaving. Girls were calling out to the band, especially Roger who just waved and smiled and tried to join in on the conversation. They usually did this after a concert. They'd get together and discuss what was good and what needed improvement. Sometimes the roadies joined them but it was getting late so they all had a night cap of a brandy each and went off to their rooms after half an hour.

Brian was afraid Roger would go and share with Fred or Deaky but that would have looked odd. He wanted to apologise to him for what had happened. Say he knew the drummer hadn't done anything wrong and that he had overreacted and would never hurt him. But by the time he'd had his shower Roger was asleep in his own bed with his back turned. Brian knew he'd probably killed the love they had. He promised himself to make it up in the morning.

1991

Brian felt so sorry for himself. How different his life would have been. Would he and Roger remained together? He didn't know. But John had been there at the right time and place and not made the drummer feel threatened. He remembered the morning he had seen them both together in the hotel room in Paris. They had connecting doors. Brian had thought he might find Roger with a girl. He could deal with that. But he couldn't accept the way the two younger musicians were wrapped in one another's arms so lovingly, the covers barely covering their lower bodies. 

He had turned away, hurt and despondent and very jealous.

The phone rang a few times before it was answered by John. He said yes, he would stay another night and if Brian wanted to come over that would be nice.

Be nice. Brian repeated. Well, John was polite and never gave much away. Brian decided not to go and then a second later was grabbing his jacket and heading out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments would be great!!


End file.
